Game, Set and Match
by ucsbdad
Summary: The disappearance of a tennis superstar is finally found to be murder. Can Rick and Kate solve a murder nearly forty years old?
1. Chapter 1

Game, Set and Match

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I'm not playing here. I don't own Castle. Rating: K Time: Season seven.

"Do we have to get out of the car?" Castle whined.

Kate looked over at her husband. "Of course we do. This is where the crime scene is."

"But it's below freezing and the wind is howling like a pack of rabid wolves. We'll freeze solid."

Kate smiled, but rolled her eyes. "It doesn't seem to bother Lanie, Ryan and Espo, or all the uniforms."

"It bothers me." He shot back.

Kate opened her door, letting in a blast of Arctic air. "Just think about how much fun we'll have warming each other up later." She got out and headed for Espo. As she expected, Castle quickly followed her.

"What do we have?" She asked her detective.

"The sewer department had raw sewage pouring into the Hudson, so they sent a diver, Mickey Polanco, to take a look. He found a car down there. When they pulled the car up, there was a skeleton inside."

"Have you talked to Polanco?" She asked.

Espo shook his head. "I wanted to wait until they hosed all the sewage off of his wetsuit. The man could gag a maggot from fifty yards."

"Getting soft?" Castle asked as Beckett headed for the diver.

"Why don't you join Beckett and see how soft he makes you?"

Polanco was still in his wetsuit, but had a blanket wrapped around him. He briefly told what happened. "We got a call about sewage in the river. There's like three separate sewer lines that go past here. One of them is old and no longer in service. Back in the day, they'd just close old sewer lines off, figuring that by the time any raw sewage leaked out, they'd be long retired."

Castle remembered the case involving the Old Haunt. "We know."

"Anyway, I get down there and I kick something. Something hard. I got out my light and looked at it and I see a car hood with an Alfa Romeo logo on it. I figure it's probably stolen. Kids maybe. So I call for a crane and have it pulled up. I was about to call auto theft, we get a lot of cars in the river, when I look inside and see this skull. I called you people right away."

"Did you touch anything? Move anything?"

Polanco shook his head. "I done a couple of these before. I know not to touch." Polanco sighed. "It's a shame. The car is a classic. A 1975 Alfa Romeo Alfetta GT." Polanco smiled. "The wife insists we have a nice family sedan, but I can dream right?"

Kate thanked Polanco and went to where Lanie was looking through the car.

"Any ID on the vic or cause of death?"

"Nothing official. The skull was fractured, but it might not have been enough to kill the vic. She might have drowned."

"She?" Kate asked.

Lanie pointed to a small evidence bag on the end of the gurney containing the body and body bag. "There was just one body in the car, but we found a charm bracelet in the car. Probably the vic's. Good quality, too. By the weight, the bracelet and charms are solid gold."

Kate looked over to see Castle doing something with his phone. "Looking for cheap flights to the Caribbean or Hawaii? Remember, I don't have any vacation days left."

He shook his head. "This is the magnification app on my phone. I want to get a better look at the bracelet."

Kate watched as Lanie continued to remove bones from the car.

"Kate, I think I know who the vic is."

"Is her name on the bracelet?"

He shook his head. "No. But all the charms are little gold tennis racquets and they're all engraved. This one says Wimbledon 1975, this one is French Open, 1974, this one is US Open 1975, Australian Open 1976….Beckett, we've found Marti Nimes."

"Who's Marti Nimes?" Espo asked.

"About the best female tennis player in the world in the seventies, until she disappeared before a match that was supposed to take place on July 4, 1976." Castle told him.

"I'm surprised a sports buff like you has never heard of Marti Nimes." Kate teased.

"Tennis? A sport?" Espo shook his head. "A sport is when you can knock someone on his ass. Sacking a quarterback, sliding into second base to break up a double play, or dunking over some guy and knocking him on his butt. But tennis?" He shook his head.

"I've read about the July Fourth match she was supposed to play in." Ryan spoke up. "She was supposed to play some mysterious guy. It was billed as the battle of the sexes, but then nothing happened."

Kate looked at the skeleton being laid out on the gurney. "Oh, something happened all right."

Once back at the precinct, Kate went to Captain Gates. Finding a long lost superstar's remains would be front page news. Captain Gates did not like to be blindsided on things like that.

"Our vic is who?" Gates said. "Are you positive?"

Kate shook her head. "No. Lanie hasn't made a positive ID yet. But we checked with the DMV and the car was registered to her. We checked on line and Marti Nimes was known to wear a solid gold charm bracelet with little tennis racquets engraved with her tennis victories. I think we should be proactive on this and assume it's her until we find out otherwise."

Gates nodded. "You're right, of course." She sighed. "Lordy! Why do we have to get a forty year old murder case with a famous athlete? Do we know anything about this?"

"I've asked for the files to be sent up from storage and I've asked if their might be any old retired guys who'd know about it, but after nearly forty years….."

"Not much hope." Gates finished for her.

Castle stuck his head into Gates' office. "Do you have a minute?"

"What do you have, Mr. Castle?"

"I have something on that last match she missed." Castle held up his laptop.

"Very well, but bring Detectives Ryan and Esposito in as well."

When everyone was in Gates' office, Castle spoke. "The match was suggested by a guy named Jimmy Barnes. Barnes was a good tennis player in the 1950s, but was over the hill as a tennis player by 1976. But, he knew everyone in sports, was a great storyteller and a scam artist, in a lot of sports. He once bet a guy ten thousand dollars he could tee off from a champagne bottle instead of a golf tee and still beat him. Of course, Barnes had been practicing teeing off from a champagne bottle for years. He was also generous. He gave an unknown minor league pitcher named Francisco Mateo money to fly home to the Dominican Republic to see his sick daughter. When Mateo made it to the bigs, he never forgot Barnes."

"Does this have anything to do with Ms. Nimes' murder, Mr. Castle?" Gates said testily.

"Barnes was also very sexist. I got this on line." Castle turned on the laptop. It was a clip from some sort of sports talk show. An older man, doubtlessly Barnes was sitting next to a younger, very fit looking woman. The man was obviously enjoying himself, but the woman, Nimes, looked mad enough to chew nails. The man spoke.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Marti. You're a good tennis player." He paused for a second and added. "For a woman. But let's face it, women tennis players just aren't as good as men and never will be. You're all just too….female."

Nimes glared at him." Care to go out on the court and test that theory?" She snapped.

Barnes laughed. "I'm sure even you could beat an old man with bad knees and failing eyesight."

Nimes smiled coldly. "I thought you'd back out."

Barnes laughed again, very much enjoying himself. "But, I do know a male tennis player that you've never even heard of that can beat your cute little panties off."

"A male player I've never even heard of that can beat me? Never. You're just blowing smoke, old man."

Castle turned the laptop off. "The match was to be played at Forest Hills, in Queens, on July Fourth, 1976, and broadcast nationally. The prize money was one hundred thousand dollars. Winner take all."

Kate whistled. "A hundred thousand is a lot now, but in 1976, it would have been a lot more."

"And consider that at Wimbledon in 1975 the men's champion made ten thousand pounds and the women's prize was seven thousand. The pound was worth about two fifty then, this was big money."

Ryan had his calculator on his phone out. "Seven thousand pounds would only be $17,500."

"Maybe it was a conspiracy?" Castle said, smiling.

"Why didn't I think of that?" Kate said.

"No, really. Just like Nancy Kerrigan in the Olympics. You remember, one of her rival's people whacked her knee to try to take her out of the competition. Maybe Barnes and his unknown male got worried and sent someone to beat Nimes up, but they went too far. She's dead, so they dump the body in the river. Did the guy win by default, I wonder?"

"Mr. Castle may have a point." Gates said sadly.

LT stuck his head in the door. "Captain, the news on Nimes' death just broke on TV."

"Damn!" Gates said. "The media will be all over this."

Karpowski also stuck her head in. "Sir, they interviewed the next of kin, a Mary Henderson at Henderson and Rice, an architectural firm in midtown. I managed to get the address."

"Detective Beckett, call this Henderson woman and make an appointment to see her today. And take Mr. Castle with you."

"One other thing." Karpowski said. "The TV reporter said Barnes died in 2005. Liver cancer."

"There goes one suspect." Castle muttered.

Castle decided that Henderson and Rice was a very successful architecture firm. The offices were in a very nice building, and were not just large, but light and airy with Swedish modern furniture scattered about. An attractive secretary led them to Mrs. Henderson's office. Mrs. Marie Henderson herself was tall, long legged, dressed in an expensive business suit and had that odd color of blonde hair that one got when trying to cover grey.

"Mrs. Henderson, we're so very sorry for your loss. Although it's been a very long time, the NYPD will do everything to solve your sister's murder."

"So, it's a murder?"

Kate nodded. "She suffered a blow to the head which might have killed or, she could have drowned. She was alone in the car and there was no damage to the car as you'd get in an accident, so we're assuming foul play."

Marie Henderson sighed. "Okay. Can we at least make this quick? I have a business to run." Seeing Kate's look, she added. "Look, Detective, it's been almost forty years. I've accepted the idea that Marti was dead a long time ago. And, I may as well tell you, my sister and I were not that close."

"Why was that?" Kate asked.

"Marti was a tennis prodigy from age eight. From that day on, my parents' life, and by extension my life, was all about her. I'd have to get up at 4 AM, because Marti had a match at another school. I couldn't use the car because Marti had to go to her tennis lessons. We couldn't go to Disneyworld when I was a kid because it interfered with Marti's schedule. I got straight A's in high school, got my bachelors and masters from Cornell and have one of the best architecture firms in the US, and when she disappeared, my parents made the house a shrine to Marti. Every trophy she ever won was there, the house was full of her photos, you'd never know I existed. When my parents passed away a got a lot of pleasure from selling everything to a sports memorabilia dealer. I don't know if you've ever had to deal with anyone who's famous, but it sucks."

Castle cleared his throat.

Kate smiled. "I do meet the occasional famous person."

Henderson nodded. "I imagine a police woman would. I don't imagine you enjoyed the experience."

Castle cleared his throat loudly.

"To get back to the case, where were you at the time of your sister's disappearance?"

"In Chicago at a conference. I arrived the day before she disappeared and didn't get back to New York until the fifth of July. I told this to the police at the time. I imagine their report has the details of exactly when I arrived, who I saw and whatever. It's been a longtime, you know."

"Can you think of anyone who'd want to hurt your sister?"

Marie Henderson laughed. "Everyone who ever played tennis against her."


	2. Chapter 2

Game, Set and Match

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I'm not playing here. I don't own Castle. Rating: M Time: Season seven.

"Pardon?"

"Detective Beckett, my sister was the exact opposite of a gracious winner, and she was much, much worse when she lost. When she was twelve, she lost a match to some girl who was a couple of years older than her. When Marti got home, she used her tennis racquet to smash everything in her room."

"Is there anyone in particular who stands out?"

Marie Henderson thought for a moment. "My parents took me to England once to watch Marti play. They didn't feel I should be deprived of watching her. The Australian, Carole Masters, said she'd kill her at some bar. And Noah Fairgood beat her once, not in a match, of course. She did something to get back at him and he said he'd kill her."

"Thank you, Mrs. Henderson. Have a nice day."

When they got to the elevator, Castle stopped her. "Why didn't you say anything? You do know someone who's famous, after all."

Kate smiled at him. "Oh, Castle. The poor woman has been miserable all her life living in the shadow of her famous sister. Did you want me to make her even more miserable by telling her I'm married to the famous, handsome, charming and very sexy Richard Castle?"

"You're just saying that to make me feel better, aren't you?"

"Of course."

"Keep it up. I like it."

She laughed and kissed him.

"She's still my number one suspect on this, though."

"Castle, I'm sure she has an ironclad alibi. She was in Chicago according to the old file."

"But that was back before you had to show ID to get on a plane. She flies to New York, kills her sister and flies back."

Kate just laughed.

Back at the precinct, they had two pieces of news.

"I talked to a man at American Tennis Magazine." Ryan said. "He says the word is that the mystery tennis player had to have been a guy named Jerry Johnson. He was a Black kid, playing for a small Black college in the South. He was a fantastic tennis player, but no one knew about him because Black people hardly played tennis in those days, at least not against whites. It was pretty much Arthur Ashe and no one else. But, he has an office in Manhattan now. Do you want to do the honors?"

"I don't know. Castle is all hot to check the alibi of his number one suspect."

"You have a number one suspect already?" Lanie said, coming up behind the detectives.

Kate told them of Castle's hurt feelings over Marie Henderson's dislike of famous people. "I told him that I could hardly tell the poor woman that I was married to the famous, handsome, charming and very sexy Rick Castle without hurting her feelings."

"You just said that to make him feel better, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, keep saying things like that. He needs to hear it."

"Lanie!" Rick cried. "I'm standing right here."

"I know. I just wanted you to know we made a positive ID based on dental records that were in the old file. It's Marti Nimes, all right."

Kate turned to Rick. "You want to go meet a famous tennis player, babe?"

"As long as he likes famous people."

"This is our day to meet the good and great in New York." Castle said, admiring the spacious office of Jerry Johnson. " More traditional that Hendricks and Rice, with lots of dark wood, beige carpets and the paintings were all sports themed.

Rick was interrupted by Johnson's secretary. "Mr. Johnson can see you now. Please go right in."

Jerry Johnson was a tall lanky African American who looked like he could still play, but the expression on his face was anything but playful.

"These are my attorneys, Mr. Greg and Mr. Fine." Johnson said.

"Calling for attorneys already?" Castle said, drawing a glare from Kate.

"Mr. Johnson is major brand in the tennis world, Detective. We're here to make sure his interests are protected. It's not like the police never make mistakes." One lawyer said.

The other one continued. "The police also use the term "Person of interest" which has no legal meaning, but which the public equates with being a suspect."

"We have no interest in harming Mr. Johnson in any way." Kate said. "But we do need to ask him some questions."

"I know what you're going to ask. So, no I was not the mystery player that Barnes had lined up to play Marti Nimes. I was unknown then. I was a Black kid, playing at a little known Black college, playing against mostly other Black athletes. Although Black is not the word a lot of white tennis players used to describe me. And, no, I can't prove any of this. It was summer, I was out of school and was with my grandma, now deceased, in rural North Carolina. I did meet Jimmy Barnes, but that was in LA in 1978 after I placed fourth at the US Open in men's singles and came within one bad call of winning the mixed doubles. I spent maybe a minute talking to him. Now if that's all you want, I need to do some work."

"There is one thing." Kate said quickly. "Can you think of anyone else that might have been Barnes' mystery player?"

Johnson thought for a minute. "There was an Australian. Ian Carter. He hit the ball harder than anyone in tennis and with great accuracy, but he was a drinker. He was in Australia fighting a drunk driving charge if I recall correctly at the time. He never was as good as his talent could have made him because of his alcohol and drug use. And he died several years ago."

"We've talked to a number of people about Marti Nimes. No one seems to have liked her. Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to hurt her?"

Johnson shrugged. "She was gone by the time I was playing with the people who'd known her. No one seemed to like her, but I don't know of any reason anyone would want to kill her."

Kate smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Johnson."

"He's not our killer." Castle said.

"No, he isn't."

Castle looked at his wife as they waited for the elevator. "Aren't you going to ask me how I know?"

"Easy. Spidey sense." She teased.

He laughed. "And you know because…."

"If he was the mystery player, he had no reason to kill her. Even if he'd gotten beaten, he would have been on national TV and unless he fell apart completely, he would have played well. He wouldn't have been an unknown anymore. He'd have been famous."

"My Spidey sense is more reliable."

Back at the precinct, Ryan had news for them. "We've tracked down the two tennis players who threatened to kill Marti Nimes. We can go see them tomorrow. Carole Masters lives in northern New Jersey and Noah Fairgood lives in Connecticut. Which to you want?"

"I've always liked Connecticut. You can have New Jersey."

The next day, as Esposito drove through northern New Jersey, Ryan look at the houses they passed with envy. "Now these are the kinds of houses I'd love to live in."

Espo laughed. "Sure. Just what you and the family need. An eight bedroom, seven bath house sitting on five acres. Oh, wait. I think that one only has a six car garage. That'll never do for you."

"Hey, laugh all you want. At least I have a dream of getting something better than the little place we're crammed into now."

"Dream on. Do you know how hard you have to work to get one of these places? This Aussie chick we're visiting probably started training when she was still in diapers. She spent her high school and college days going from one match to the next and practicing in between. Then, boom! She's pushing thirty and she's over the hill as an athlete. Now she's in her sixties and probably sits around in her big house all day and wonders if it was all worth it. I'd say it wasn't."

"Yeah, but…." Ryan began.

"Hey, this is it."

Carole Masters may have been in her sixties, but she looked like she was in her thirties. Her legs, visible thanks to a pair of very tight running shorts, we're long and supple. Her bare midriff was tanned and toned. Her boobs were firm and round. So firm and round as to be obvious fakes and her face was smooth and unlined.

"Good day to you, detectives. Please come in. Here, sit on the sofa with me."

Ryan quickly noticed that the couch was only big enough for the three of them to sit very close together and there was no place else to sit in the room. As Espo began explaining the reason for their call, Masters' hand landed on Ryan's thigh and began to move north. He quickly removed her hand, being careful to use his left hand to show his wedding ring. He also saw that Espo was also being groped.

"Oh, dear." She interrupted. "What kind of a hostess am I? I know you gentlemen can't drink alcohol on duty, but I have some lovely fruit juice for you. Would you please assist me on the kitchen, Detective Esposito?"

"Please call me Javi." He said, standing.

Ryan sat and waited for five minutes. He could hear the two of them laughing in the kitchen. Eventually, they came back out with three glasses of fruit juice.

"If we could get back to our reason for coming here?" Ryan asked.

"Oh, certainly, dear. You want to know about the time I threatened to kill that awful Marti Nimes. She had just beaten me at a match in Atlanta and we were all at the bar of the tennis club there and Marti was describing in great detail her victory over me. And she made me look like the biggest buffoon to ever play tennis. She went on and on about how bad my footwork was, and how I had no idea how to serve, and how dreadful my lob was, and….She just went on and on and when she was through describing our match, she went on about how I had been so lucky to win the prior days match and she began to go over everything she thought I'd done wrong. I'm sure she would have gone on all night about me. So, I walked over to her, threw a drink in her face and told her if she ever said another word about me, I'd kill her. Then I left." She paused for a second. "But I did not kill her."

"Ms. Nimes was last seen on July second, 1976 at about four in the afternoon. Can you tell us where you were from then until July fourth?"

"I certainly can. I looked up my old schedule. I arrived in Sydney, Australia, at about ten o'clock in the morning on July the second. Because of the International Date Line, that would have been July the first in the US and didn't leave until the eighth of July. You can check, you know."

"Can you think of anyone who'd want to kill Ms. Nimes?"

"Anyone who ever knew her, I suppose."

Ryan closed his notebook. "Thank you for your time. We have to be going now."

"That was a waste of time." Ryan said once they were back in the car, headed for Manhattan.

"Maybe for you, bro, but not for me. I have me a date this weekend."

"With her? Javi, she's old enough to be your mother."

"Maybe, but she sure as hell doesn't look like my mother."

"You know she's had massive amounts of work done to look that good at her age."

Esposito shrugged. "Maybe, but none of the scars show."

"None of the…You _looked_?"

"You know, you're right, bro. I'd love to live in a house like these. Or at least wake up once or twice in one."

Ryan said nothing all the way back to the city.


	3. Chapter 3

Game, Set and Match

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I'm not playing here. I don't own Castle. Rating: M Time: Season seven.

Rick and Kate arrived at Noah Fairgood's home in Connecticut for their interview.

"Nice place." Castle said. "Playing tennis professionally must pay well."

"Not badly, but he makes most of his money from owning a company that franchises tennis coaching clinics and schools for teenagers. Plus, he's an analyst for some cable TV's tennis channel. And his house isn't as nice as your place in the Hamptons." She teased.

"Our place in the Hamptons, Mrs. Castle. Our place."

She laughed. "I can't quite get used to being married to a millionaire."

"You _are_ a millionaire. You own half of Nikki Heat now, remember."

Castle rang the doorbell which was answered by a very attractive young blonde, wearing tennis whites. "Hi, are you two the detectives?"

Kate showed her badge. "I'm Detective Kate Beckett and this is Mr. Castle."

They were led inside and found Noah Fairgood sitting on the couch. With him was the twin of the woman who'd shown them in. "Good morning. You've already met Kelli, and this is her sister, Kerri. How can I help you?"

"We're here about the murder of Marti Nimes."

Fairgood laughed. "Life is good sometimes, and then on days like this, life is spectacular."

"You did threaten to kill Ms. Nimes." Castle said. "Perhaps you shouldn't be so happy about her death."

"Can you explain why you threatened her?" Kate asked.

"She bitched constantly that she was the best tennis player in the world and that she couldn't prove it because she wasn't allowed to play men. One day after a match, I decided I'd had enough of her bitching. I challenged her to a match, right there and then. There were half a dozen other players hanging around, although everyone else had left. She agreed at once."

Fairgood got a faraway look in his eyes and smiled. "Mind you she probably could have beaten many of the men. She was big, six feet, one inch and a hundred and fifty pounds of muscles, with long legs and long arms. But it was just one of those days when everything you do is absolutely perfect. I don't think I ever played as well in my entire life as I did that day. I beat her in straight sets."

"She must have been upset." Kate said.

Fairgood laughed. "Upset? She was furious! Livid! Enraged! She knew that everyone who'd been there would spread the word that she'd been beaten by a man after all of her bragging that she was _the_ best tennis player in the world."

"What did she do?"

"I was engaged at the time. She told my fiancé that she had gone to bed with me, even described the birthmark I have on my butt. My fiancé broke up with me. Probably the best thing that ever happened to me." He reached over and stroked Kelli's thigh. Or maybe it was Kerri's.

"But you did threaten to kill her, didn't you?"

"Yes, Detective. But I have an alibi. When exactly was she last seen?"

"The last she was seen was about four PM on July second, 1976. Where were you?"

"Kelli, dearest, could you go get my 1976 tennis scrapbook? And the other scrapbook as well?"

Kelli giggled, kissed Fairgood and ran off, bouncing nicely. She came back in seconds with two large scrapbooks.

He opened one. "I was in Philadelphia for a match from the morning of the second to the fourth. You can copy down the information and check it."

"Philadelphia isn't that far from New York. You could have easily gone to New York and been back in time to play the next day." Beckett said.

"That's why I brought the second album out. This is what, or rather who, I was doing when not playing tennis."

When he handed the album over Kate looked at it and handed it quickly to Castle. "Those could have been taken anywhere and at any time."

"If you'll note, the girls' names, addresses and phone numbers are on the back. Along with a description of their talents, or lack thereof. I do like to have my way. Of course, it has been years and years, so you night have trouble locating them. But again, you have no evidence that I wasn't in Philadelphia, do you?"

"None." Kate said.

Fairgood smiled. "You know Detective, we could enjoy ourselves since you've come so far to see me. I'm sure Kelli and Kerri would have a wonderful time with your partner."

"I'm married." Kate said, as coldly as she could.

"Oh, your husband need never know. And I promise you I'm well worth it."

She pointed to Rick. "He's my husband." The she stood and left without another word.

Rick hastily thanked Fairgood for his help and chased after Kate. He found her in the car, staring straight ahead.

"Kate, the guy is an asshole. Don't even…"

"Castle, I don't want to talk about it. We're headed back to the precinct."

Once back at the precinct, Rick and Kate exchanged the information they'd gotten with Ryan and Esposito. Rick and Kate tried to track down the women in Philadelphia who were Fairgood's alibi, while the other two detectives went through the old files from when Marti Nimes was a missing person to try to track down any witnesses or suspects.

And the end of the day, they'd gotten nowhere.

"It's been nearly forty years." Kate said. "We've found nothing on those two women. Have you found anything?"

"The people the detectives talked to back in the day were mostly fairly well known in tennis, so they haven't been too hard to track down, the problem is that they're scattered all over the world. The last woman she ever played against is running a tennis school in China, a number have relocated to London, her last mixed doubles partner lives in Hawaii…."

"I'll take that one." Espo spoke up.

"Sorry, if anyone goes to Hawaii, it's me and the lead detective, in other words, my wife."

Kate went on. "As far as tracking down all the people she played against, we can do that for her professional years and when she was in college, but before that…."

"It's hard to imagine some twelve year old getting beat at tennis and then holding a grudge that long."

Castle walked over to the murder board and stared at it. Kate quickly joined him.

"Someone wanted to stop the tennis match." He said.

"We don't know that, Castle. It could have been a mugging gone wrong."

He shook his head. "She had her cash, credit cards and jewelry."

"So the mugger panics because she's dead and dumps her body in the car in the river."

"This mugger has enough presence of mind to get her into the car, drive it to the river and in, but doesn't take anything?"

"Not all criminals are geniuses." Kate smiled to herself. "Besides, aren't your theories supposed to involve the CIA, aliens or zombies?"

He smiled back. "Good idea. Barnes is actually an alien disguised as a human. His race's religion is tennis and when he sees how good Nimes is, he gets close to her, sucks her tennis knowledge out of her like a vampire, but is captured by the CIA who dump the body and take Barnes to Area 51, using a handy clone of the real Barnes to throw everyone off. Better?"

"Exactly what I expect from you." She lowered her voice. "But I expect something different tonight."

Gates came out of her office and walked over to her detectives. "I have some good news, people. Roger Schiller, her former manager, is flying in from Chicago to attend Ms. Nimes' funeral. He's agreed to come in and talk to us tomorrow. How are you doing otherwise, Beckett?"

Kate shook her head, then briefed Gates on what had happened that day, leaving out Fairgood's proposition.

"You should all go home then. Come in tomorrow and talk to Mr. Schiller."

As they got ready for bed that night, Kate was already in bed when Castle came out of the bathroom. "I know what you're thinking." He said.

"You do? Will your abilities ever cease to amaze me?" She said, smiling.

"No, they won't. But, you're wondering if I'd have ended up like Fairgood, with wall to wall, live in blonde bimbos, if I'd never met you."

Kate shook her head. "I wasn't thinking of that at all, since you'd have ended up with me, no matter what."

"I would have?"

"Absolutely. The Universe would have demanded it."

Castle laughed. "The Universe?"

"What? You don't believe in magic, Castle?"

Castle pulled her sleep shirt up over her head. "I'll show you some magic. I can make your clothes fall off."

She giggled.

The next morning Roger Schiller met with Rick and Kate. He was tall, well built, if aging, and dressed like any other successful executive in any large American City. "First, let me say how sorry we are for your loss, Mr. Schiller." Kate said.

Schiller nodded. "It's been so long. I mean, I knew she was never coming back. Not after all that time. I had accepted that she was…."He began to tear up.

"If you'd like us to stop for a moment?"

Schiller shook his head. "No. I want to do everything I can to help. The news media is saying it's murder. Is that correct?"

"In cases like these, after all this time, it's very difficult to fix a cause of death, but the Medical Examiner has found that Ms. Nimes was struck on the back of her head, fracturing her skull. That blow may have been sufficient to kill her, but it certainly would have knocked her unconscious. The seat belt in her car was in use and we've determined that there was no way that she could have hit her head in the manner that it was in any kind of an accident. We're assuming that there's foul play involved."

Schiller shook his head. "It's so hard to believe. I mean Marti was competitive and she hated to lose, or even win if she felt like she hadn't done her best. I know that people didn't like her, but to kill her? Or was it something else?"

"She had her money, credit cards and jewelry on her when we found her."

"Detective, could I possibly have her charm bracelet back when this is over? I gave her the very first charm on it. I'd like it as a memento."

"It could be a while, but I'll see what I can do." Kate said. "Now, can you think of anyone who'd want to hurt Ms. Nimes? We've been told that several people threatened to kill her."

Schiller looked upset, then shook his head. "I know people called her names and said things to her, but I never heard anyone threaten to kill her. And she never said anything about that. She just dismissed the things people said about her as just the words of poor losers, or jealous men."

"Speaking of men, "Castle interrupted, "do you have any idea who the mystery man she was supposed to play on the Fourth of July was?"

"No. I saw on the news that Jerry Johnson has denied being her opponent. I always thought it was him. I mean, who else could it be? Marti was really looking forward to the match. This was her chance to prove what she'd been saying all along, that she was the best tennis player in the world and not just the best woman tennis player. In spite of all of those horrible rumors, I knew she was, too. She worked so hard getting ready for the match."

"Rumors?" Kate asked. "What rumors are we talking about?"

"I hate to repeat them."

"This is a murder investigation, Mr. Schiller, and you do want to help us, remember?"

He sighed. "There were people who said she _was_ a man. That she was just masquerading as a woman."


	4. Chapter 4

Game, Set and Match

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I'm not playing here. I don't own Castle. Rating: M Time: Season seven.

Kate looked up from her notes. "Pardon?"

"That's an awful lie. I can testify that Marti was a fully functional female. People also said she used drugs, you know, human growth hormones, steroids, blood doping, and all sorts of things. The seventies were a different time, Detective. There wasn't the sort of scrutiny of athletes for performance enhancing drugs that there is now. But I can absolutely guarantee you that Marti never used drugs of any sort. Not even the kind people now call "recreational drugs."

"Can you tell us where you were at the time Ms. Nimes disappeared?"

"I talked to the police when this happened and I'm sure their report is much more complete, but I was in my office in Mid-town, doing paperwork, by myself. Oh, not really by myself, Marti was there. I meant that my secretary had gone home. Marti left in the early afternoon sometime to go practice. "Schiller smiled. "She just couldn't practice enough she always said."

Castle interrupted again. "You said you always assumed Jerry Johnson would have been her opponent, now that he's denied it, can you think of anyone else it might have been?"

"No, that Barnes fellow was very closed mouth about everything. It was amazing how much he could talk and not really say anything."

"Is there anything that you think we might need to know that you haven't mentioned, sir?"

Schiller thought for a moment. "No, but I know nothing about murder investigations. I am a lawyer, but I never really practiced. Once I became Marti's agent, I just kept being an agent for sports stars. I'm sorry."

Kate handed him her card. "If you do think of anything, please call us. Even if it seems unimportant to you, it could be crucial for the case. "

"Of course. Of course."

When he had left, Rick and Kate went back to her desk. "Another dead end?" Castle asked.

"Looks like. Trying to pin down alibis at a remove of almost forty years is a bitch." Kate turned in her chair. "Hey, Espo? Have we gotten anything on Marti Nimes' last day?"

The detective shook his head. "Not a thing. Security cams were the sort of things you found at the White House or the Pentagon, not on every building in the city, back then. There were no traffic cams. Not that anyone would have any footage that old." Espo grabbed a file from his desk and checked it over. "She left Schiller's office about one o'clock that day, she was seen leaving by an Edward Cole, security guard, now deceased, according to the old report. No one else remembered seeing her. She headed for the Knickerbocker Tennis Club which was four blocks away. She usually walked, but sometimes the doorman would call her a cab. The doorman, also deceased, didn't remember seeing her at all that day. She arrived at the tennis club about one thirty or so, and didn't play tennis, but worked out, mostly on weight machines."

Espo grabbed another file off of Ryan's desk. "She was last seen by a banker named Albert Constantine about four o'clock. He was also doing weights. No one remembered seeing her after that, which was kind of unusual, since she mostly would work until they closed. But, according to the staff, she left earlier often enough that it didn't cause any concern. Nobody saw her after that. Oh, and the Knickerbocker was torn down about twenty years ago."

"In other words, we have nothing." Castle said dejectedly.

"Oh, not at all, Castle." Ryan said, walking through the bullpen from the elevator with a smile on his face. "I've been over at the TV network that was going to broadcast the match and they dug out their old files and found the contract that was signed between the network and the mystery player's representative."

"Did they gave the name of the mystery player?" Kate asked.

"Sadly no. The contract was with a Tennis Associates, LLC. But the owner of Tennis Associates is an attorney, one Edmund Howard. Although semi-retired, he still works for Brummage, Stern and Ffolks, a Wall Street law firm. I called and he's agreed to meet with us at his office tomorrow."

"Kate and I'll take that one." Castle said quickly.

Ryan shrugged. "Fine with me. Who wants to talk with a bunch of wealthy lawyers anyway?'

"Dude!" Esposito said, frowning. "Have you ever seen the secretaries they hire at places like that? No millionaire lawyer wants his coffee brought to him each morning by some ugly chick."

"Speaking as a well known coffee bringer to the brilliant and beautiful, those secretaries are looking for millionaire lawyers, not poverty stricken cops."

Kate looked at her husband. "Is that the voice of experience?"

"Purely research and long before I met you."

"Nice save." Espo said, reaching over to do the birds eating gesture with Castle.

"Just barely a save." Kate said.

The next morning Rick and Kate found themselves sitting on a soft leather sofa, their feet on a deep pile rug, staring at pair of Modigliani paintings while a quite beautiful secretary brought them coffee and apologized profusely for Mr. Howard's absence.

"Really, Detectives, he told me that he wanted to bring someone that you'd need to meet for this case and they got hung up in traffic. He called and said…." She breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, he's here."

Howard was what you'd expect for a wealthy Wall Street attorney. Well dressed, if quite conservatively, silver hair, tall, in good shape for his age and well tanned. With him was a Hispanic appearing man, well dressed, but not as well as Howard, but still looking distinguished with salt and pepper hair and a smile for the secretary.

"Hello, Claudia. How are you these days? Staying out of trouble in my absence. Or just hiding it well?"

Claudia blushed. "It's always good to see you, too, Mr. del Castillo."

Del Castillo frowned. "Whoa! Are you mad at me, or something?"

Claudia glanced at Mr. Howard. "It's good to see you, Pete."

Del Castillo smiled. "That's my girl. How's law school going?"

"Three classes left."

"Excuse me, Pete, but could you wait to elope with Claudia until after we've talked to the detectives?"

Both Pete and Claudia laughed. Pete followed the Rick, Kate and Howard into Howard's very luxurious office.

"Thank you for seeing us, Mr. Howard. I assume the two of you were involved with the tennis match?'

Howard smirked. "Oh, yes. Both of us were very much involved. I ran the company and Pete was the mystery tennis player."

Both Rick and Kate's eyes swiveled to del Castillo. Kate recovered first. "Excuse me, sir, but I've done a great deal of reading about tennis players in the seventies, and I haven't ever seen your name."

"That's because I've never played tennis. That's because of my leg." Del Castillo raised one pant leg to show a prosthetic leg.

"Pete was my RTO, radio telephone operator, in Vietnam. I was an artillery forward observer. Someone stepped on a mine, Pete lost a leg and I just got some shrapnel."

Del Castillo nodded. "I was a mess coming back from the Nam. I drank way too much."

Kate shook her head. "This makes no sense at all."

Howard laughed. "I understand your confusion, but consider this: Suppose that you knew that one of the best tennis players in the world was going to play a one legged vet who'd never played the game and also had a drinking problem? And suppose you also knew where Las Vegas was."

Kate and Rick understood at the same time. "It was a scam!" They said.

Howard and del Castillo both laughed. "Indeed it was. Jimmy Barnes bet over $300,000 on Marti Nimes to win. Usually, if someone like Marti Nimes was playing some complete unknown, you wouldn't have found anyone to take a bet like that. Everyone would have considered it a foregone conclusion that Ms. Nimes would win. But Jimmy was very, very good. He hyped the match so well that people wanted to bet, so Vegas started taking bets. He even managed to get pretty good odds, considering."

Kate nodded. "But if the bookies in Las Vegas found out it was all a scam, they would have been angry and if they thought Marti Nimes was involved…." Kate stopped when she saw Howard shaking his head.

"Remember, Detective, by this time Howard Hughes had been buying casinos in Las Vegas for ten years. By 1976 casinos were more likely to be owned by someone like MGM, the movie studio, than by mobsters. The places that Jimmy placed his bets were run by accountants working for multi-national corporations. Not the kind of people to break legs."

"I'm not one hundred percent sure of that." Kate said, remembering some of the people she'd arrested.

Howard continued. "Jimmy saw this as a win-win situation. If, as expected, Ms. Nimes demolished Pete, he'd make a pile of money and he'd be sure to let everyone know that Ms. Nimes helped him to win it. And after all, what did that match say about the "battle of the sexes"? Any halfway competent twelve year old girl could have beaten Pete. In that respect, the match was meaningless. There was a chance that she'd take one look at Pete and figure out this was some sort of a scam and just walk off the court, forfeiting the match. Jimmy figured that even if he lost the bet, he'd be on every talk show in the US for a year, claiming that the mere sight of a man facing her was enough to send Marti running. He would have milked it for all it was worth. The one thing he never expected was for Marti Nimes to not show up. The network cancelled the match, naturally, and the casinos voided the bets, giving Jimmy back his money, less ten percent."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Castle asked.

"Jimmy asked me not to say anything. He had hopes of being able to use the same scam later, but it never happened. After a while, I just forgot about it."

"So how did you get paid? Betting on Marti Nimes?" Kate asked.

"Not a chance. Do you have any idea how many of the Bar Associations rules I'd violate if I bet against my client? I'd be disbarred."

"So what was your payday?"

"I became Jimmy Barnes' attorney."

Both Kate and Rick frowned. "Was that so lucrative?" She asked.

"Not at all." Howard said with a laugh. "I doubt if I made a thousand dollars from him."

"So?" Castle asked.

"I was his attorney, and his friend. He took me to a Yankees' game the same night that some of the partners were taking some clients. They sat in the firm's box ten rows back, I sat right behind the Yankees' dugout with Jimmy Barnes on one side and Yogi Berra on the other. I made sure to turn around and wave to them. All the clients wanted to know who the guy with Yogi Berra was."

"That's it?"

Howard shook his head. "We'd go out every couple of weeks. Jimmy always had some gorgeous date for me and we'd go to some hot party or trendy club. No matter what, Jimmy always knew a guy. We played tennis and golf with sports stars, local politicians, media people and entertainers. Being with Jimmy really put me on the map as far as the firm was concerned. Of course I had to produce on the job, but I was no longer just one of many associates. I was _somebody_."

Kate suppressed a smile and looked at Castle. "So Jimmy always knew a guy? That must have been useful." She quickly turned to del Castillo. "Did you become Barnes' lawyer, too?"

Del Castillo laughed as well. "He paid me ten thousand dollars, not for playing against Ms. Nimes, but for the rights of any book or screenplay I might write about the match. It was a joke, of course, I had no intention of ever writing a book. I was afraid when the deal fell through that he'd want his money back, but he said a deal was a deal. He also gave me the best pep talk I've ever heard in my life. He told me to get off my ass, stop drinking and make something of myself. It wasn't easy, but I did go to college and then to law school. Not Yale, like Eddy here, but I got my degree and Eddy made sure I got a job here. I'm retired now and happy." Del Castillo suddenly frowned. "Oh, Eddy. My wife told me I can't elope with Claudia. The poor kid's going to be heartbroken."

"A long running private joke, Detectives. And I'm sure Claudia will survive." Howard said.

"Is there anything you can think of that might help us find Ms. Nimes' killer?"

Howard shook his head, but del Castillo nodded.

"Do you have something, Mr. del Castillo?"


	5. Chapter 5

Game, Set and Match

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I'm not playing here. I don't own Castle. Rating: K Time: Season seven.

"Yeah, all of the money that Barnes bet wasn't in Las Vegas. At the last minute he got ahold of about twenty thousand dollars. He bet it with a local bookie. A guy who used to hang out in a pool hall in Brooklyn. Now what was his name? Italian, I think."

"Filippo." Howard said. "I'd forgotten about him. His name was Samuel Filippo."

Kate and Rick thanked the two attorneys and left. Once in the elevator, Kate sighed. "The whole match was a scam. This changes our whole investigation."

"But it gives us a new suspect to interview."

"Sam Filippo? How will we ever find him?"

"Beckett, your husband knows guys. In this case, Vincent Cardano. Sam Filippo works for Vinny."

Once back at the precinct, Kate looked at the newly expanded murder board while Rick called Vinnie the Scar. When he came back, they both sat looking at the board.

"We have two new avenues of investigation as well." Kate said.

"Sex and drugs." They said together.

"Imagine hitting on a woman, going someplace to make out and finding she had different equipment than you had imagined." Rick said.

"Or drugs. Dealers can be dangerous."

"Then there's 'roid rage. Maybe she went berserk and someone killed her in self defense."

"Then why dump the body?"

"Ah, it was a secret super steroid developed by the CIA. They had to cover their tracks."

"That's the Castle I know and love."

"We can ask our sex mad seniors, Fairgood and Masters. Vinnie said he can't get Filippo here until day after tomorrow. We can see the ever friendly Mr. Fairgood and the boys can drop by Ms. Masters' place, although for some reason I don't think Ryan liked her."

"May as well. I'll tell the boys to ask about sex and drugs when they go."

"Based on what Ryan's said, I'm sure Espo will bring up the topic of sex."

When they arrived at Fairgood's they were met at the door by an obviously grumpy Kelli and Kerri. "You can come right in." One of the blondes said glumly.

"Is something the matter, Kerri?" Castle asked.

"I'm Kelli." The blonde snapped, then turned away and headed into the house, followed by her twin.

Inside they discovered the reason for the blondes' unhappiness. Noah Fairgood was sitting on the couch with a tall, busty redheaded young lady, his hand resting on her knee. "And how may I help you today, Detectives?" He said, his hand sliding up the redhead's thigh. She giggled. "Oh, don't mind Kikki here. She's pitching an idea for a woman's professional sports league to be based in Florida."

Kelli and Kerri, now standing behind Fairgood, both stuck their tongues out.

Kate tried to remain calm. "We've picked up some rumors about Ms. Nimes that, if true, might be related to her death. First, someone told us about a rumor that Ms. Nimes might actually be male. Do you know anything about that?"

Fairgood shrugged. "She's not in my scrapbook, if that's what you're asking. Although I'd be happy to have the girls get the relevant scrapbooks and we can review them together. All six of us."

Kate shook her head vigorously. Kelli and Kerri mimed barfing from behind Fairgood and Kikki. "That's not necessary. Did you ever hear anything like that, or that Ms. Nimes was using performance enhancing drugs?"

Again, he shrugged. "You hear all sorts of stupid rumors, but I don't ever recall hearing that Marti was a man. I'm pretty sure she changed in the women's locker room and any, um, additions to her body would have been noted. If she'd had an operation though….I couldn't say." He frowned. "As for drugs, well, it was the seventies, so I'm sure that people did get high on whatever was around on occasion. But I never saw Marti using. As for PEDs….? It's not like people would shoot up in the middle of the locker room, but I seem to recall that she was at some match where a urine sample was required. Where and when I can't recall, but after so many years….?"

"Thank you, Mr. Fairgood." Kate said heading for the door.

"Detective, would you and your husband like to stay for a bit?" He called after her.

"NO!" Kate yelled as Castle followed her out.

Castle wisely said nothing as they drove back to the precinct.

Ryan and Esposito arrived at Carole Masters' home, they found she had prepared for them. She now wore a bikini and when the three went inside Ryan saw that the living room now featured a small love seat, just big enough for two, and, some distance away, a soft, comfortable easy chair. Carole Masters led Espo to the love seat and Ryan sank into the easy chair and kept on sinking. It was so soft and deep that he thought he'd have trouble getting up again without assistance.

"Ms. Masters…." He began.

"Oh, we can't start yet, dear. I made some sandwiches and some lemonade for us all. Javi, dear, would you help me." Javi and Carole got up, headed for the kitchen.

"That's okay. My partner and I…."They were gone before Ryan finished his sentence.

After about ten minutes, Ryan struggled to get himself out of the chair, but having gotten to his feet, wondered if he really wanted to find out what his partner was doing in the kitchen. Or rather who he was doing. He sat down again.

Finally, the two came back, with a large plate of sandwiches and a large pitcher of lemonade.

"Just how much did my partner tell you about why we're here, Ms. Masters?"

"Oh, he _filled_ me in completely!" She said and then giggled. "But didn't you also want to ask something about poor Marti?"

Ryan sighed. "There are rumors that that she was actually a man, and that she used PEDs. Do you know anything about that?"

Carole Masters smiled. "I do know something about her sex life. Oh, not from personal experience, of course. We were all at a match in LA in 1974, I think. We were in the clubhouse and I had to pee. The ladies room was being cleaned by this awful man, so I went into the ladies locker room. I could hear the sounds of lovemaking coming from the shower area. There was Marti and her manager, that luscious Roger Schiller. I admit that I hid and watched. I got quite a show, let me tell you. There's absolutely no question in my mind that Marti was female." She giggled. "Or that Roger was _very_ male."

"What about drugs?"

"She never used recreational drugs to my knowledge. She was afraid they'd dull her senses or slow her reflexes. She hardly ever drank alcohol, either. As for PEDs, she always said she didn't need them, and I believed her. Her assets were her long arms and legs, her reflexes, eyesight, and hand-eye coordination. Of course she was strong, but I don't think she was abnormally strong. Of course, people have lied about using those drugs before."

Ryan struggled out of his chair with no help from his partner. "Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Masters." He headed for the door, but turned back when he saw Espo was still sitting. "Javi?"

"Why don't you wait in the car? I want to write up my notes."

Ryan started to argue, but walked out of the house, and waited for another half an hour before his partner showed up.

"I think she really likes me, Kevin."

Ryan smirked. "You probably just remind her of her favorite grandson."

"She doesn't have any children or grandchildren." Espo huffed.

"So she's going to adopt little Javi?"

Neither one said anything further on the ride back to the precinct.

Once there, Beckett and her team went over what they had learned.

"Which is basically nothing." Castle said. "We're pretty sure that Marti Nimes was a woman, and we have no evidence that even if she actually was, or had been a man, that it would have anything to do with her death." He looked around. "If you were masquerading as the other sex, you wouldn't pick up some stranger for casual sex, since your career could be ruined by the revelation."

Kate continued. "And we have no evidence of any kind of drug use. I checked with Lanie. There's no way to tell, based on the remains we have if she ever used drugs of any sort."

"So we're back to square one?" Ryan asked.

"Unless Castle's friend can help us tomorrow."

"Do we have to deal with some wise guy?" Espo asked, frowning.

"We deal with whoever can help us."

Kate knew of the bar in Queens they had to go to. Organized Crime had identified it as a known hangout for the Cardano crime family. However, when they entered, instead of the muscular thug she had expected to greet them, they were greeted by a petite, dark haired young woman. "Detective Beckett and Mr. Castle? This way, please. Mr. Cardano and Mr. Filippo are waiting for you."

Vinnie the Scar shot up from his chair when they arrived and greeted them enthusiastically. He pounded Rick on the back and complimented Kate on her beauty. Sam Filippo remained seated and looked decidedly unhappy about being there.

"You see, Rick, I got you Sam here to talk to you."

Sam spoke for the first time. "Mr. Cardano, I am not entirely pleased with discussing my affairs with law enforcement." His New York accent was quite noticeable.

Vinnie smiled at him. "Sam, you're not talking to the cops, you're talking to my friends. Capisce?"

Sam nodded, but still looked glum.

"Mr. Filippo, you took a bet from a Jimmy Barnes for the July Fourth, 1976, tennis match featuring our vic?"

"No." He replied. Then seeing Vinnie's glare, he added. "Not exactly, Detective. I had a customer. A Doctor Michael Stone. Wonderful fellow. A real gentleman. He wasn't exactly a regular customer. Not an everyday kind of a fellow. He'd lay a bet on the World Series, the Super Bowl, the NBA Championship, college bowl games, you know, the big games. That sort of thing. Never less than five hundred, but never more than a thousand. As I said, a gentleman. When we'd meet, he'd buy me a drink, I'd buy him a drink and we'd talk sports. Then one day he comes in and lays twenty large down on the chick, Marti Nimes. I give him his marker and he apologizes, and leaves as fast as he can. I am curious, so I follow him. Who do I see him talking to but Jimmy Barnes. And he hands Barnes my marker. All at once I understand. Barnes is up to something and has bet on the chick. With this inside information, I am in a position to make some real money. But, alas, the match never happens and it turns out the chick is dead. This is all I know."

"So you had no reason to want the match stopped?" Castle asked.

Filippo looked shocked. "Please! Someone welshes on a bet, you may have to remind them of their obligations, if you catch my drift. But to do something like that, hurt an athlete would be bad for business. Besides, as I said, I was in a position to make a great deal of money when she won." Filippo assumed a smug look. "In spite of what you see on the television about people beating up….other people, things like that do not happen. Other….sports enthusiasts would become angry."

"Do you have any idea who might have wanted to hurt Marti Nimes?" Kate asked.

"None."

"Rick, I asked around." Vinnie broke in. "It's been a while and a lot of guys are no longer around. "Vinnie quickly crossed himself. "But I could find nothing that would help you."

Kate sighed. Another dead end. "Thanks, Vinnie and Sam."

"You're more than welcome, Kate. You _are_ the real life alter ego of my favorite fictional character. Glad to be off assistance. "

Kate smiled at him. "Vinnie, you'll turn my head with your flattery."

Back at the precinct, Kate wrote up her notes. "We still have nothing." Kate said disgustedly. "The match was a scam, but the only people who knew that wanted the match to go on. A lot of her rivals hated her, but enough to kill her? And if someone did, who? Random gang violence? You know how I feel about that theory."

LT brought them a file folder. "CSU has their report. They're sorry it took so long, but one of their computers crashed."

The two looked at it and when they reached a certain page, they both smiled and looked at each other. "I know who the killer is." They said.

"All we have to do now is prove it." Castle added.


	6. Chapter 6

Game, Set and Match

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I'm not playing here. I don't own Castle. Rating: K Time: Season seven.

Two days later after re-interviewing every witness they had found, and checking again with CSU, they were ready to confront their suspect.

"Remember, Castle, we have to break him in this interrogation. It's our only shot."

Castle quickly kissed her. "You'll do it, I know."

Kate took a deep breath and walked into the interrogation room with Castle following her.

"What's this all about?" Asked Roger Schiller.

Kate and Rick sat down. They ignored Schiller while Kate went through the file. Then she looked up at Schiller. "We found something in the mud and muck under the car seat in Marti Nimes' car." She held out a photo.

"Perfume?" Schiller asked.

"No, but Detective Beckett and I did see a glass vial like that on a previous case. Anabolic steroids were in the previous vial and that's what's in this vial."

Schiller just shrugged.

Kate went on. "We noticed that the plastic cap was covered with something."

Castle smiled. "People who manufacture illegal drugs often have no sense of pride in their work. It's a shame, really. Next they'll be exporting the jobs to third world countries. So sad." Castle said with false concern.

"In this case," Kate continued, "the plastic cap fit loosely and I imagine some spilled. So someone covered the cap with resin to make it air tight. No leaks."

Castle spoke again. "Oddly enough, tennis racquets are made from all sorts of things, plastic, fiberglass, carbon, resin…."

"We've talked to a lot of people who knew her, "Kate went on, "and they all say that Marti would never have knowingly taken steroids. Most of them said she was too egotistical to think she'd ever need any kind of performance enhancing drugs."

"But getting back to the resin on the glass vial of steroids. Guess what was left behind on the resin. Go ahead, guess." Schiller said nothing so Castle went on." Your fingerprint. So you handled the steroids."

"Marti Nimes really believed that she could beat any male tennis player, didn't she? But you weren't so sure, not after she lost to Noah Fairgood. And after all her bragging about how good she was, if she lost to a man, or even just barely beat him, who knows what damage that would do to her career." She smiled coldly at Schiller. "And yours, of course."

"What did you do?" Castle asked. "Tell her they were vitamin supplements?"

Kate continued. "But she was smart. She figured out what you were doing and she confronted you and things got ugly. It was probably after she was at the tennis club. You hit her and killed her, then waited until it was dark and smuggled her body out of the building to her car. Then a quick trip to the river and it was all over. Is that what happened?"

Schiller looked at them. "I'd like to talk to my lawyer now. And I'm not saying a word until he's here."

After he called his lawyer, Rick and Kate talked to each other about the case, hoping to draw Schiller out. But he sat silently until his lawyer arrived and then left.

Rick and the three detectives went over the files for the rest of the day, hoping there was something they overlooked, but found nothing.

That night, at home, Kate snuggled up next to Rick in their bed. "He'll get away with it, won't he?" She said.

"Don't give up. We'll find something. _You'll_ find something. You always do."

She kissed him. "Thanks. But I have a bad feeling about this one. We aren't going to be able to arrest him."

When they arrived at the precinct the next morning, they found someone waiting for them.

"It's Ms. Masters, the Aussie tennis player." Espo told them. "She showed up about ten minutes before you two got here and said she needed to talk to Beckett."

Kate escorted Ms. Masters into the interview room. Rick, Espo and Ryan followed them.

"How can I help you, Ms. Masters?"

"You're the inspiration for Nikki Heat, aren't you?"

Kate nodded, hoping Ms. Masters wasn't going to go all fan girl on her. "Yes, but how can we help you?"

"Oh, dear, I'm the one that can help you." She took a deep breath. "Marti Nimes was the love of my life. The only one I ever really loved. All the rest were just meaningless sex."

Espo sounded like he was choking and Ryan sounded like he was suppressing a laugh. Kate glared at them both. "Please continue."

"Oh, Marti didn't feel the same way, of course, dear. She kind of liked me and enjoyed the sex we had, but no more. I suppose that she never really loved anyone but herself."

"We're sorry for your loss, of course." Kate wondered where, if anyplace, this was going.

"Thank you, dear. I heard on the news that Roger's fingerprints had been found on a container of steroids found with poor Marti's body. Last night I went to confront him. He has a suite at the Fairwick, you know."

"Ms. Masters, you should leave that sort of thing to the police."

"Oh, I know, dear, but I was just so angry, I wasn't thinking straight, I suppose. He was very rude. He laughed at me and said the police had nothing. All they could prove was that he'd handled steroids many years ago. He said they couldn't prove he knew it was steroids, or that Marti was taking them, or that he had killed her. He said he was going to get away with murder."

"Ms. Masters, that's useful, but it's really only hearsay. And he can simply deny saying anything of the sort to you."

"I know that, dear. Just because I'm a professional athlete, it doesn't mean I'm stupid. I know what hearsay is." She stopped and took a deep breath. "That's why I shot him."

Kate had her mouth open to say something. It snapped closed. Then, "I beg your pardon?"

"I shot him, dear. Twice in the chest and twice in the head. I left the gun, a .25 caliber Beretta, on the nightstand. I put out one of those plastic "Do not disturb" signs on the door. I knew you'd want the crime scene to be undisturbed."

Kate reached into her pocket and brought out a small, laminated plastic card. "Ms. Masters, I'm going to have to read you your Miranda rights now."

"Of course, dear. Take your time. I have plenty of time now."

The rest was anticlimactic. Ms. Masters gave her statement, declined an attorney, and happily went back to the Fairwick with Kate and her team. The room was as she had described it. One dead body on the floor, one Beretta .25 caliber automatic on the nightstand. Kate called Gates to confirm her team's findings. When she got back to the precinct, she spent the rest of the day briefing one person after another from One PP.

Castle did his best to cook her favorite foods that night, but Beckett just picked at the meal.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

She almost said that nothing was wrong, but she remembered how many times she'd lied to Castle in the past and had sworn she'd never do that again. "I hate that it ended this way."

Castle shrugged. "We know that Schiller killed Marti, and then Masters killed him. It's karma."

"I don't support vigilante justice just because the right person was punished. That's not what I do. That's not how I want things to work."

Castle put his arms around her and held her close. "Remember Ben Davidson? He murdered his former son-in-law, who had murdered his wife, and put her in a freezer."

"There was no evidence of that murder. But at least I had a chance to find all the evidence that was left. There wasn't enough to prosecute. But I was never happy with it. This time I won't get the chance to prove that Schiller is the killer. "

He stroked the back of her neck. "It happens. No one ever solved the St. Valentine's Day massacre."

"Al Capone was behind it and he went to prison."

"For income tax evasion."

She looked up at Castle and glared, a mild Beckett glare. "If this is you trying to make me feel better, it isn't working. Yes, Capone was jailed for income tax evasion, and "Machine Gun" Jack McGurn, who planned and executed the massacre was shot to death several years later. So?"

"So, you are remarkable, Mrs. Castle. Truly remarkable."

"I don't feel remarkable."

"But you are. And do you know why?"

She shook her head.

"Because any other cop in the world who'd had this case would be out celebrating. Buying drinks for his, or her, buddies, to celebrate solving a decades old, world famous murder, and not worrying one bit about how the killer was punished. But not Kate Beckett. Kate Beckett is upset because she did not find enough evidence to convict the killer in a court of law. That _is_ remarkable."

"So you think I'm remarkable." She was grinning now.

"Absolutely. And I have a way of making you feel better." He picked her up and began carrying her to the bedroom. "I have another battle of the sexes in mind for tonight. And, like Barnes, I intend to let you win."

Kate laughed.

 **Author's note:** _ **After Captain Kate and the Sorceress**_ **is done, but needs some last minute checking and polishing. It's going to be up soon. And, I've started on** _ **After Once Upon a Time in the West**_ **. It is set, of course, in 19** **th** **century England.**

 **UCSBdad**


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